


The Wasteland Survival Guide

by RageQueen89



Category: Fallout 3
Genre: Blood, Broken Bones, Fallout 3 - Freeform, For Science!, Gen, Questionable Research Tactics, Swearing, Wasteland Survival Guide
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-15
Updated: 2014-10-15
Packaged: 2018-02-21 06:43:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2458607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RageQueen89/pseuds/RageQueen89
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As a child, her father had taught her that science was always expanding. People were always discovering new things. The world of science was never still. It took desire, he told her, to know more; a wish to better the lives of others. Scientific discovery took dedication and sacrifice...</p>
<p>Somehow, she didn't think he had meant this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Wasteland Survival Guide

**Author's Note:**

> After reading the dialog for the Wasteland Survival Guide side quests, I wondered what my character would have been thinking. I decided I wanted to write part of it out. This is the result.
> 
> WARNING for descriptions of blood and broken bones and hurting oneself. If these are your triggers, you may wish to skip over that particular paragraph.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Fallout 3, Moira Brown, or Dogmeat. Much of the dialogue in this fic is taken directly from the video game, and I don't own that, either.

As a child, her father had taught her that science was always expanding. People were always discovering new things. The world of science was never still. It took desire, he told her, to know more; a wish to better the lives of others. Scientific discovery took dedication and sacrifice...

Somehow, she didn't think he had meant this.

“This is a bad idea,” she commented. She turned to look at Dogmeat. The canine cocked his head in question. “This is a really bad idea.” Dogmeat opened his mouth and let his tongue loll out in a doggy grin. “I know. It's my own fault. It's still a bad idea.”

The day had begun like any other. Nadia had gotten into Megaton late the previous night and promptly gone home to crash. When she woke, she fed herself and Dogmeat before heading to Craterside Supply to unload her latest haul. Moira always appreciated the scrap, bits and bobs, refurbished weapons, and foodstuffs she collected while wandering the Capital Wasteland.

Nadia had also finished doing a bit of research for Moira's book. Specifically, repelling mole rats. Moira had provided a stick that had been covered in repellent that she had made herself. The idea was for Nadia to find giant mole rats and wave the stick at them to see if they ran off. Unfortunately, (or fortunately, depending who you asked), it hadn't worked as intended. The repellent stick had caused the little fuckers' heads to explode in a brilliant fashion. It was like explosive whack-a-mole! Nadia had thoroughly enjoyed the experience. Moira had been horrified, both by the failure and by Nadia's enjoyment of it. She had happily gifted Nadia the repellent stick.

The shopkeeper didn't dwell on her failure for very long. She had quickly gotten back to the other research she needed done. There were three parts to each chapter. Nadia's remaining choices for chapter two were dealing with injury or Mirelurk infiltration. The first option meant going and getting hurt. At least Moira offered to provide medical treatment, afterward. The second option was sneaking into a Mirelurk den and planting a recording device in one of their nests, preferably without killing any of them.

Nadia hated Mirelurks. She had nearly lost Dogmeat to them, once, and their outer shells made killing them ridiculously hard. A shotgun blast should not be so easily shrugged off, dammit! So that left dealing with injuries and crippled limbs. Nadia wasn't a good enough doctor to tell Moira exactly what to expect, and the young shopkeeper wanted to be as thorough and accurate as possible. Somehow, Nadia had agreed to go out and injure herself. If she crippled herself, she would get a bonus... how was this her life? 

She had agonized over how to go about it for at least half an hour. Frag grenades were right out. With her luck, it would roll away and take out a wall or hurt someone. Frag mines were a possibility; there had to be some that she missed in Minefield, after all. However, the prospect of trekking all the way out there, standing on one, and then trekking back was daunting. If she hurt herself too badly, she might simply die before getting back to Megaton, no matter how good her medic skills were. Plus, frag mines were useful.

She supposed she could wander about and find someone or something to pick a fight with. Raiders were a good bet. So were sentry bots. The problem there was that neither could be counted on to stop when she called a time-out. Also, raiders had that awful rape-and-torture thing going on. Perhaps someone less inclined to homicide? Although, most of the folks around Megaton were too nice or timid or sherrif-y to beat her until she cried uncle. Or they were Moriarty, who would probably demand payment for something like that. So... no.

Then she had looked over the railing. The landing where Craterside Supply let out was at least thirty feet off the ground. Humans could survive that kind of a fall, right?

“This is a seriously bad idea,” Nadia sighed. She set her pack down on the landing and dropped her combat shotgun from her back. She turned to Dogmeat again. “Stay.”

“Aroo?” Dogmeat whined. He fidgeted where he sat, ears folding back on his head.

“Don't worry, I'll be right back,” Nadia assured him. Then, before she could change her mind, she hopped off the landing. Wind raced past her ears and stole her breath. She wasn't sure when she hit the ground, but there was suddenly pain. She couldn't breathe and there was horrible, agonizing pain in both her legs. Her eyes wouldn't focus past the bright white light that was currently blinding her. For a long while, all she could do was lay there. The bright light gave way to the sky, and there was the landing she had leaped off. Her breath came more easily, but the pain only grew worse. Finally, she forced herself into a sitting position, vision blurring at the edges. With a groan, she closed them as a wave of nausea hit her.

“Fuck,” she muttered, gritting her teeth against the pain. Don't vomit. Don't vomit. Don't vomit! “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fucking-” Her curses continued even as the nauseated feeling calmed slightly. She opened her eyes and looked down at her legs. There was a bloody bone protruding from a hole in the leg of her jumpsuit. More of her blood was running down her legs. The medic in her automatically analyzed what she was seeing: broken tibia, crippling injury. Well, there was one thing crossed off her list. The other one hurt just as much, but she didn't see blood or bones jutting out. A quick poke with her fingers sent more pain lancing up her leg, so something was definitely broken.

She had to get to Moira... she grabbed the hand railing of a nearby ramp, waited a few seconds, then heaved herself upwards. Pain exploded from her legs and her knees buckled. Her vision went fuzzy. Concussion, too, apparently; she had probably smacked her head on the dirt when she had landed. “Shit! Son of a whore!” she snarled as her body sagged against the railing. Her hands gripped the metal so hard her knuckles turned white. Eventually, she forced herself to take a step, and then another, and another, falling against whatever was closest. Somehow, Nadia managed to drag herself back up the ramps to the Craterside Supply, dripping blood and cursing fluently the whole way. She practically fell into the shop. The security guy that seemed to never move from that one spot gave her an odd look, but Nadia ignored him in favor of Moira. The young woman was sweeping her shop floor. Nadia limped over to her. As she approached, Moira looked up from her task and grinned.

“Huh. Did you know the human body can survive without the stomach or spleen?” she queried. 

Nadia could only stare for a moment, half amused despite her pain. “Sometimes, you worry me, dear,” she stated flatly.

“Oh,” Moira said, coming out of her thoughts at Nadia's voice. “What's up?”

“Let's talk about this serious injury...” Nadia suggested through gritted teeth. Moira seemed to realize that Nadia was hurt. The woman positively beamed.

“Well, how do you feel?” she asked. Nadia let out a groan of pain, bracing herself on the counter. She didn't even care that she was getting blood all over the shop floor.

“This really hurts, you know,” she forced out, curbing her desire to smack Moira silly. Her vision swam momentarily and she swayed on her feet. Only her death-grip on the counter kept her upright.

“Oh, I know it does, dear, but it's for a good cause,” Moira replied. “Try not to squirm so much while I take notes.” The woman seized a pad of paper and a pen. “Now, how would you describe the pain you're feeling? Any advice for how to keep it from being overwhelming? And remember, this is for posterity.” 

It was at this point that Nadia felt her urge to box the woman's ears triple. Her fingers tightened on the counter, this time in anger. 

“Despite my glossary of expletives, nothing properly sums up this pain,” she finally spat. That seemed to get Moira's attention. The woman blinked and her mouth fell slightly open.

“You? At a loss for words? Oh, it's worse than I thought!” Moira exclaimed. “Luckily, I'm here to patch you up.” She led Nadia to a bench where she could sit while Moira put her back together. “Now hold still and quit fidgeting.”As the woman applied anesthetic, Nadia heard her mutter, “Ugh! How can you be walking around like this?”

She wasn't sure how long she was out. When she came to once more, Moira was standing over her with that bright grin of hers. “Welcome back!” she sang. “I'm all done! You did quite a number on yourself, there! In addition to your shin bone going through your skin like that, you broke one of your ankles and gave yourself a nasty concussion!”

“Well... good to know I had myself properly diagnosed,” Nadia said. She sat up with Moira's aid and looked down at her legs. Aside from the tear in her pants and the scar on her shin, there was no trace of the damage from earlier. Nothing hurt, even if she thought she would need to be extra careful for the next few days. Not bad, at all; almost as good as Nadia herself could have done.

“Looks good,” she finally commented. Moira just chuckled and handed her a FancyLad Snack Cake. Nadia took it and bit into it eagerly.

“Okay, I even stitched a little smiley-face in you, to keep up your spirits,” Moira informed her. Nadia stopped chewing and blinked at Moira. Was she serious? "It's kinda hard to see from your side, though." Nadia's eyes went back down to her legs, which she twisted this way and that. Oh, hell, she was totally serious... the smiley face looked like it was mocking her...

Well, it could have been worse. It could have been a dick. Nadia sighed and shook her head. "All right, then, what's next?"

Moira grinned at her excitedly. "Mirelurks!"

Nadia groaned.

**Author's Note:**

> I may or may not do the other parts of the book. If I do, they will not be in the proper order. 
> 
> This work is not beta-proofed. All mistakes are mine. Flames will be added to the glowing bonfire that keeps me warm at night.


End file.
